Mon Tout
by jiitan
Summary: A collection of past meetings between Hanji and Levi and the time they spent together before joining the Scouting Legion.


The first time they met is pure coincidence. He was 18 at the time, barely an adult, but she could tell from his eyes that he'd already seen enough to no longer revel in the naïvety of childhood. She watched him and his posse carefully from the corner of the bar she worked at. None of the men that surrounded him had anything remarkable about them, they were common street thugs. Most were kids who had been orphaned one way or another, some were just men who thought they had something to prove.

But then there were the unreadable ones like him. Deadpan face except for the occasional smirk or the raise of an eyebrow. She studied his profile as she cleaned the tables, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. She hated when gangs came into the bar. It always meant trouble.

"Oi, Levi!" the shout came from the doorway and the man whose face she had been studying turned his head, he appeared expressionless except for the slight sagging if his lips which indicated his annoyance at having his night already interrupted.

"Steafan wants to see you!"

Time stopped within the bar. Steafan Ismet was as notorious as they get. He ran the single biggest criminal ring inside Wall Sina. Levi sighed curtly, and slid out of his seat. The only one daring to move or breathe.

He made his was lazily between patrons and bar wenches, obviously not caring if he kept Steafan waiting. People's eyes darted in every direction but his; avoidance was a sure means of survival in these times.

"Stop slacking, girl," She heard the bar keep's voice hiss in her ear as a hand slid around her waist, "Or I might just find other ways for ya to pay me back for the time yer wastin'."

She nodded, shifting slightly in an attempt to get away from his horrendous breathe and lecherous hands. He snorted and released her. Breathing a sigh of relief, she heard him muttering as he walked away.

"Should just sell yer lazy ass to Steafan and his men and let them deal with ya."

She didn't doubt that if given the chance he would make good of his threat.

Even if she was the only daughter of his little sister. Espen Hange was a man who only cared about two things. His now well established bar and money.

"Get up to yer room after yer done here, Zoë. The MP will be showin' up soon and I don't need a lil brat like you flittin' around doing nothin'."

She nodded and gathered up the dishes and cups that still littered the table, after depositing them in the kitchen she quickly wiped the table clean and fled up stairs to her room.

Securing the lock she had installed herself, she changed into a pair of Capri's and an ill-fitting cotton shirt, being mindful not to glance in the mirror less she see the bruises that marred her abdomen. There was amendment to be added to the list of all Espen cared about: he also cared about getting what he wanted. One way or another.

She recoiled from her thoughts in disgusting, silently wishing it had been he who had died instead of her mother. There was no use in wishing on the impossible though, so instead she opted for sneaking out as a means if escape. She opened her window slowly, although she was sure Espen would never hear her, she didn't want to find out what he would do if he caught her. When the window was pushed all the way open she inhaled quickly. The night's scent stinging her nose with a mix of smoke, booze, and other unidentifiable smells which she was thankful not to be able to pinpoint, though she was pretty sure she could smell vomit...

Or was it feces. Shaking her head she leaned out over the sill. That's when she heard them. Hushed whispers coming from the alley. She listened closer, climbing over the sill and sitting on it, feet dangling two stories above the ground.

"Are you sure?" the voice was deep and gravelly, but there was an air of uncertainty about it. The next voice was that of a woman's.

"Of course, my dear Steafan, he's working with Grahame's men behind your back. There are rumors he's dealing with the MP too." she drawled, her voice cool and full of reassurance. She recognized it as Dorothea's voice, another woman who worked at her uncle's bar. There was a beat of silence before she heard another voice.

"Fine, it'll be taken care of before sunrise." there were traces of an accent woven into the speech, but she couldn't pinpoint it. All she knew was out of the trio, that voice sounded the most dangerous. They stepped out of the alleyway. Steafan Ismet, Dorothea Oded, and...

"Levi." the name left her mouth as barely a wisp. Whatever she had overheard she was now positive she wasn't supposed to hear. Not daring to move, she closed her eyes and prayed they wouldn't notice her.

"How unfortunate," Levi spoke calmly, but she could feel the presence of eyes upon her. When she looked all three of them were staring at her. Dorothea looked saddened and turned her face into Steafan's shoulder. He motioned with his left hand, keeping eye contact with her.

She never even realized Levi had left the party... Until her door flew open and she was being thrown across the room. Rolling to a stop she watched Levi pull the window shut then make his way across the room to shut the door.

"Eavesdropping is rude, petite fille."

French.

That's what the accent was. She lightly tapped her forehead for not realizing it sooner, but she was quickly pulled from her thoughts and to her feet.

"What did you hear?"

"Nothing! Honest!" she wasn't the best liar, but she was trying to buy herself sometime. Maybe he wouldn't just flat-out shoot her. Levi raised an eyebrow before dropping her back down on the floor.

She landed on a newly forming bruise and cringed, curling up in the fetal position slightly. Levi began walking around the room.

"What's your name?"

"Zoë. Zoë Hange," she groaned slightly, the pain in her side had yet to dull, "But a lot of folk mispronounce it as Hanji... so I tend to just go by that."

"You talk too much." he stated bluntly. She looked up at him. He was now sitting on her bed, one leg crossed over the other, eyes staring at her blankly. She sat up slowly, holding her side as she did.

"Look, I won't snitch, okay?" Hanji's eyes met his in an almost challenging manner. Levi leaned forward, a bemused smirk on his face.

"I don't care what happens to him. Family or not he's a piece of shit and I hope you kill him in the most painful way imaginable." she spat and Levi could see the seering hatred in her eyes. He stood abruptly and Hanji was sure he was just going to put a bullet in her brain and be done with all this. Instead, he strode over to her and knelt, examining her carefully.

"How old are you?"

Hanji couldn't find the relevance in his question, but she saw his hands advancing towards her shirt.  
"I'm 13, you pig." she swatted his hands away. Levi's eyes narrowed.

"Please, I'm not interested in girls like you. You're all sinew, no curves. Hardly the kind of body type that gets me going."

He reached out and lifted her shirt up. Despite his speech, Hanji felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

"Did he do this?"

Hanji's embarrassment turned to shame and she pushed the shirt back down.

"You can understand why I don't care if he dies."

Levi stood and made his way to the door. Before leaving he glanced over at Hanji.

"Find Dorothea, she'll be in the back with Steafan,"

Hanji went to protest, there was no way she was meeting with them.

"If you don't find them, you're as good as dead. Tonight isn't going to end well for anyone."

She stood, waiting for him to leave. Levi exited quickly, closing the door behind him. She heard the footsteps disappear down the stairs and then there was nothing except the buzzing if conversation and drinking down below. He could have killed her.

Should have, really. But he had let her live for reasons she still would not understand 16 years from now. The only thing she did understand was that she had been given an opportunity to escape this hell. And she was going to take it.


End file.
